


be good

by youheldyourbreath



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Peter Parker takes his Uncle's edict a little too seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youheldyourbreath/pseuds/youheldyourbreath
Summary: Peter Parker has always been special. A genius, adults praised. But that title did not make a man, his Uncle Ben would often say. Being blessed with great gifts comes with great responsibility. There are men, his Uncle would go on, that had gifts who squandered them or, worse still, used them for selfish gain. And Ben Parker was not raising his nephew to be one of those men. "Be good," he would whisper to his nephew in quiet Spanish every night he tucked him into bed.But being good is not always easy.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 45





	be good

**Author's Note:**

> happy 2021 all! I know I haven't been around recently. 2020 has been a doozy. I am going to slowly get back into the groove of posting more regularly. I know I have some WIPs I need to update. but here is a oneshot that sat unfinished in my drafts that I finally had the wherewithal to finish today.

People have been telling Peter Parker he was a genius for as long as he can remember. He was the kind of kid that read early and built robots out of scrap metal in elementary school and listened when teachers talked. He was _special_. 

But every time an adult gave him a compliment or he won another award at the science fair and especially when he got into Midtown Tech, his Uncle Ben reminded him that being blessed with great gifts comes with great responsibility. There are men, he would say, that had gifts who squandered them or, worse still, used them for selfish gain. And Ben Parker was not raising his nephew to be one of those men. "Be good," he would whisper to his nephew in quiet Spanish every night he tucked him into bed. 

Peter really tried to be good for his Uncle. When he died the nice, cushy apartment that he had spent most of his childhood living in on a two-person income became a non-starter for Aunt May. She worked in non-profit. And so, with his new powers that happened unexpectedly and rather traumatically at fourteen, Peter used his special skills to help. To be good. 

He figured if he dumpster dived enough tech and restored it quickly enough he could help supplement their family income. It worked, for a time, and then Peter had to go and get himself involved in being an Avenger trainee. Because that was good, too. It was using his special talents to be good, like his Uncle instructed him. 

It didn't leave enough time to help Aunt May. Two months after Berlin, Peter packed up the last of his childhood memories and moved into a new apartment in Queens. It was smaller. Less familiar to him. But it was easier for May to manage than the home that trapped so many memories of her dead husband. And besides, they couldn't afford it. 

He was doing good, he reminded himself, when he saw May struggling to make ends meet, because patrolling the city helped save people. And what could be more good than that? 

People have been telling Peter Parker that he was a genius for as long as he can remember. He was special. 

And yet, he isn't strong enough to save the world. He isn't strong enough to save his mentor. (Like Ben, he thinks. He loses another person because he isn't good enough, actually. He never has been.) He isn't strong enough to put himself back together when the world pretends to move forward after Thanos. 

He and May have to move _again_. 

Be good, his Uncle used to say. Peter doesn't feel like he is living up to that promise. 

And then, something special happens _to_ him. Michelle Jones smiles. 

It is the kind of smile that knocks him on his ass. The kind of smile that feels more than special because he knows it is for him alone. He has never had something of his own before. Being good meant being good for other people, being unselfish, and when Michelle Jones smiles at him for the first time after the blip, he thinks maybe his Uncle was a little wrong. There is nothing wrong with a being a little selfish. 

The world can wait. It has had so much of him already. 

When it takes more from him, when Beck implodes his entire life, he knows he shouldn't be surprised, but the realization that the world will take and take and take from him until he has nothing left _aches_. For someone who is supposed to be a genius, he feels so stupid. He should've known. Because being good means sacrifice. He learned that from Ben. He learned that from Tony.

And he knows how being good ended for both of those men. 

It hurts for a blinding moment, like someone cleaves his chest in two, and then an overwhelming sense of calm swallows him whole. Some people are born to die, he realizes, and he is one of those men. 

He glances down at Michelle, who is the most unflappable person he knows, and he spots terror in her eyes. It should startle him, but nothing surprises him now. He is special. He knows he was born to be good and the only good he can do now is protect MJ. 

Never again, she blew her hair out of her eyes, when she told him she hated swinging, but he can't keep that promise. Not now. Not while she is in danger. 

Peter swoops down into the crowd and yanks her out of the increasingly furious crowd. They are shouting at him. People are throwing things. Michelle is screaming in his ear as they climb in altitude. 

Only when they are safe, when he has done a little good by protecting her in the little ways that he can now, does he finally speak. "I have to go." 

"Where?" She clutches his forearm like she knows he is a flight risk. If Peter Parker is a genius, if he is special, he doesn't know what word constitutes Michelle. She is the single most amazing person he has ever met and he knows Gods. But he was so stupid to think that he could carve out a place in his life with her to be selfish. He has known since he was a kid that he was born to be good. Now he knows that he was probably born to die doing it.

"I haven't figured that part out," he whispers.

Something painful shutters in her eyes. "You wouldn't tell me even if you did, would you?"

"Em."

"You don't have to do this alone, Peter. We were there! Me, Ned, Betty. Hell, even Flash. We know Spider-Man saved us from the drones. You didn't hurt anyone. You saved them."

Another miraculous thing about MJ, he thinks as she tentatively pulls the mask from him, revealing his weary face, is that she has the courage of her convictions. Michelle Jones knows what she believes is right and good and true and she fights to the bitter end to preserve it. He knows, if he lets her, that she will walk every step of the journey he has to take with him. She will fight for him. 

But he cannot banish the voice in his head, the gentle and reassuring voice of his long-dead Uncle, who used to say, with great gifts comes great responsibility. He has a responsibility to the people he loves. 

_Loves_ , he realizes, terrified at sixteen. He looks at MJ and knows it. And he knows it isn't the fleeting romance of high school, even though they are still in their awkward beginnings. It is a steadfast kind of love that is bound by respect and understanding and goodness. 

She is the good he is fighting for, Peter decides as he looks into her wide, imploring eyes. It makes the calm that is settling inside of him warm. 

He can do this one final good thing. Be good, his Uncle used to say. And so he will.

For her, he is certain he could do anything. 

"They aren't going to believe a bunch of high schoolers, MJ."

"But--"

He takes her hand fiercely. "You know they won't." 

Michelle Jones steals his cheeks into her hands, as her thumbs sweep the high points of his cheekbones. "Peter," her voice cracks. "Peter whatever it is you think you're going to do, don't do it. Please don't do it." 

His gloved fingertips brush her waist. There is something about the end of things that makes a person more certain. If this had been any normal day, Peter wouldn't have had the courage to touch her like this, to talk to her like this, but they are running out of time. The normal shyness of high school evaporates. This conversation is for all of the Peters and MJs they could have been. He needs to be the man he was born to be when he is too young to be a man at all. 

"Listen to me." 

"Peter, no." 

"Em, listen to me." His tone is resolute. "When they ask you about me..." 

"Peter," she whimpers.

He shakes his head and soldiers on. "When they ask you about me, you didn't know. About Beck. About me being Spider-Man. Ant of it. Not until today. When I took you swinging. People will have pictures of you by now. They'll ask. And you have to lie. No, don't interrupt me. Listen. You have to lie. You didn't know. You're disgusted by me. You can't believe you trusted someone who would do all of this." 

"It isn't true." 

"It doesn't matter." _People need to believe_ , Beck had whispered, as he lay dying. _And nowadays they'll believe anything_. "MJ, you know it doesn't matter." 

'I'm not going to lie. I won't. I can't." Her voice is steel. He would kiss her, if he thought it wouldn't ruin everything. 

Instead, he presses his forehead against her own. It isn't surprising that it feels just right. Everything about MJ has felt right since that first day she smiled at him, like something in him finally clicked into place. Of course he feels more like himself than he ever has before and what a damn tragedy that it wasn't made to last. 

It is the price of doing good, of being good. 

"You gotta let me go now, Em." His eyes are closed. He doesn't know how he knows this, but hers are too.

The hands that clasp his face as impossibly soft and tender. "I can't." 

"You gotta know that this time with you has been the best." He scoffs. "Better than the best. Unreal. Out of somebody else's life. But now its over." 

"No, it isn't," she insists. 

It isn't good. In fact, it is entirely selfish. But he can't help himself as he steals one final thing for himself. He mouths crashes into hers and the little, heartbreaking squeak is the only thing of hers that he takes for the road. This kiss. This moment. It isn't like the bridge. It is certain. Assured. The hands that lay respectfully at her waist now cling and clutch. The hands on his face curl into him as MJ steals something, too. 

He gifts it to her gladly. It belongs to her anyway. 

And then, he is gone. Snagging the mask down on his face and swinging away from the horrified screams of Michelle. His name has never sounded so desperate. 

What a terrible thing it is to love somebody. 

But leaving her is the right thing to do, the good thing to do. And Ben Parker was never wrong. 


End file.
